


Gray Days

by mortylion



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Akward Jack, Angst, Depression, M/M, Mute Dean, No relation to s13, No relation to s13 trailer, Post mourning, Sad Dean, Sadness, Supportive Sam, dead cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-08 09:23:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12251532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mortylion/pseuds/mortylion
Summary: Dean isn't sure what to do. Everything seems so pointless. It hurts. It hurts so damn bad. Everything just seems so gray.





	Gray Days

**Author's Note:**

> This has no relation to the season 13 trailer. This is kind of how I would invision Dean would mourn for Cas dying.

 

Dean just sat there. It seemed like years, that he just stared at the now closed eye lids, of his blue skies. Placing his hand on the wing marks  _hurt._ His entire hand felt aflame, pulling it back as if he'd really been burned. He didn't feel the tears sliding down his face, or the way his throat tightened up as he sobbed. He didn't even notice when Sam came out with someone next to him. The only time he noticed anything really happened was when Sam tried to pry him off Cas.

If Dean let go now, Cas really would be gone.

Dean foughy against his brother, but ultimately simply sagged as he was recked in loud sobs. Silently screaming for the angel to come back to him. Hoping that anyone, would be listening to his urgent prayers.

Which there was no answer to.

Dean doesn't remember entering his baby, sitting in the back while Sam and someone else move Cas' body. He isn't sure what happens to it. But stares down and realizes he is clutching the trench coat in his hands. Applying it to his face, he breathes in the scent of his angel. 

Sam knew what would happen to his brother. There wasn't a time where they lost Cas were Dean was actually  _okay._ However, it just seemed too  _real_ this time around. Sam wasn't sure how Dean would react, not this time. Sam couldn't even introduce Jack after seeing his brother slumped over the corpse that once contained Cas.

"I cannot bring him back", Jack furrowed his eyebrows. Eyes near watering, "it seems so easy. But I  _can't_ ".

"It's okay, uh, Jack", Sam smiled thinnly. "You  _were_ just born. Probably don't know if you can".

"I should be able to".

With that, Sam and Jack entered the impala. Sam seeing his brother asleep in the back, tear tracks running down his cheeks. Eyes puffy and red as he clung to the trench coat for what seemed like dear life. This wouldn't be easy. Sam could already see that.

While Sam showed Jack around the bunker for the next few days, Dean stayed in his room most of the time.

When he would come out, it was for the bare necessities. He seemed to constantly have two things in hand, a whiskey bottle and the trench coat. Sam could smell Dean hasn't been bathing. He looked skinnier too. Obviously not eating as well either, only having liquor in his system. Dean didn't pay attention to Jack either. He seemed to be aware the nephlim was there, but didn't bother caring much. He stopped talking and communicating. Sam couldn't even get a sound that wasn't a sob or the word "Cas" out of his brother.

It was awful. And while Sam mourned for losing their mother in the other dimension, Jack for his mother, and Dean for...whatever Cas was to him. The bunker sat in complete and utter gray. Nothing seemed to fully bring color in any of their lives. Gray days managed to stay for too long.

"Dean", Sam went and stood in the doorway of his brother's room. The liquor finally ran out, and Sam refused to buy more. Clearly his choice was correct, seeing the room covered in empty bottles. "Listen man, I know...I know losing someone is hard. Trust me. We've both been through this. But, we've overcome it in the past. And we can do it again".

Dean simply stared at the wall, lying on his side with the trench coat tucked in his chest. His face seemed to have permanent tear marks. He didn't even register his brother had been speaking to him until he felt a tug on the trench coat. Immediately he sat up and gripped it as tightly as he could. Whimpering when Sam tried to take it again. Tears falling freely once more.

_He lost Cas, and now his brother was taking away the last piece of him._

"Dean", Sam exhaled. "C'mon man, we got a confused nephlim needing our help. You need to get out of this funk"!

Dean felt his breathe become unstable at the though of losing the trench coat. He was gasping for air when he felt the tug loosen aa he held the coat tighter than before to his chest. He inhaled the scent, not caring that San was still there. He didn't hear the door close as his brother left, and he fell asleep to the sounds of his labored breaths.

He was everywhere. In his dreams, in his memories, in his thoughts.  _He was everywhere. And it hurt._

It had been two months. And Sam felt hopeless in helping his brother. Jack and him had managed to do a few hunts, just to keep busy. Jack had definitely shown no ill intentment towards anything that didn't deserve it. He helped with chores around the bunker, even daring to clean Dean's room every now and again when too many pizza and pie boxes piled up. He also used his budding powers to do minuscule things. Like shave Dean's mourning beard every few days. Which San appreciated. If he had to see once more crumb in a beard he would lose it.

Dean hadn't spoken still. His routine now replaced beer with pie and pizza. He didn't even object when Sam once brought him vegetarian pizza. Glancing at it before he took it to his room. 

The first time Dean spoke, was when he noticed the trench coat was gone one morning. He found Sam and quickly back him up against a wall his a knife in hand. "Where. Is. It"?

"Dude, calm down", Sam quickly spoke. "You don't speak for weeks and the first thing you do is threaten me! I don't even know what you're looking for"!

"The coat! Where is the fucking coat", by the end of his sentence Dean had started to tear up again. Just before Jack came around yhe corner, with a freshly washed tan trench coat. Dean lunged for it, taking in the scent and noticing it's original scent had been washed clean. Now smelling of tide and downy. "No! No! No", Dean fell on the floor and sobbed into the trench coat. "Caaasss", Dean whined into the coat. The angel's smell was gone, just like he was.

"I-I just washed it. It stinked and I though-"

"Go away", Dean screamed at Jack and returned to rocking himseld while holding the jacket. "G'way".

"Dean-"

"Cas", Dean sniffled as he picked himself up and locked himself in his room once more. 

Sam sighed heavily and looked at Jack who gave an apologetic glance. 

 


End file.
